


Heaven (Is Where I'm With You)

by wastetheyears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Heaven, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastetheyears/pseuds/wastetheyears
Summary: Dean waits for Sam. Then he finds out Sam has someone else.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 150





	Heaven (Is Where I'm With You)

The whole “loved ones watching over you from Heaven” thing isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be. Grandma isn’t watching your every move in spin class and Cousin Jim isn’t constantly peeking in on your every Tinder chat. As someone who spent the last several years of his earthbound life sleeping with his brother, Dean considers himself grateful.

His first few years in Heaven are pretty rough, though, with no updates on Sam. All he knows is Sam hasn’t appeared by his side yet and that’s great in most in ways and not great in selfish other ones, but he would give anything for the smallest tidbit on how Sam is doing, even if it’s that Sam’s still enjoying his dainty morning runs or has taken up ribbon dancing or something.

Three years into his stay, when Dad hits his milestone anniversary of twenty years in Heaven, Dean finally gets his update.

Dad barges into the Sunday family dinner with a wide smile on his face, Heaven-issue silver scroll in hand and proclaims, “Sam’s engaged! And she’s pregnant!”

And suddenly, Dean wishes he knew nothing at all.

__________________

The thing is, Dean knows it’s selfish. He wanted Sam to move on. He wanted Sam to have a life. He’s thrilled he’s an uncle. He’s not there, though. He’s not there to be an uncle. Someone else is there. Someone else is there for Sam to love and have a life with and Dean, Dean is happy for him, really he is. He always wanted Sam to have the apple pie life.

Dean has been waiting for Sam, though. Waiting for him because he’s the only thing that matters, because _they_ are the only thing that matters, that has ever mattered, and if Sam comes to him in forty or fifty years head over heels in love with his wife, Dean isn’t sure what he will do.

“That’s absurd,” Cas says when Dean tries to explain this to him, washing cherry blossoms off the fender of the Impala.

“It’s not,” Dean says. “I died when I was forty-one, man. We were together like fifteen years. If he spends forty years with this chick, it’s not hard to do with math.”

“You and Sam are soulmates.”

“You don’t think you can have more than one soulmate?” Dean asks, meeting his friend’s eye, and the question hangs heavy and awkward between them. They still haven’t talked about Cas’ confession before taking off to The Empty, maybe never will, but they have skated by fine without it.

“No,” Cas answers firmly, taking Dean by slight surprise. “Only in extremely rare cases.”

“Maybe this is extremely rare,” Dean mumbles, scrubbing at an invisible spot at the chrome.

“It’s not.”

Dean wishes he were convinced.

__________________

It's a practiced thing, trying to let Sam go. It doesn't work, not by a long shot. There are a long series of calculated failures that have Dean licking his wounds.

The first is trying not to think about Sam. He thinks about Sam in everything that he does, thinks about Sam's kid and what it will be like to meet them one day. He wonders if they'll like him, wonders if he'll be any good at that being an uncle thing. He thinks about Sam, if he's hunting, if he's being safe. He thinks about Sam's kid, if they know about monsters, if they're afraid of the things in the dark. He even thinks about Sam's wife. He wonders if she'll like him when they meet, if they'll really get along or if she'll only be nice to him at family dinners. He wonders if she'll let Sam see him often, or if he'll only see Sam on occasion, whether they'll be regulated to holidays and occasional chance meetings at the local stores.

The second is immersing himself in anything and everything to forget Sam. He joins in on every outing his friends invite him on, even inviting himself sometimes. He tries to take up running but finds that even though his back and legs don't hurt him in Heaven, he still hates it. He even gives water skiing a try and nearly dies. Again.

The third is trying to find someone else.

Her name is Callie. She was a nurse in her former life and she died in a car accident. That tends to be how people introduce themselves in Heaven, morbid as it is: former occupation and how they croaked. She has long amber hair and bright green eyes and before he and Sam were official, Dean would have been all over her.

Instead he chats her up about mangoes at the grocery store and asks her on a date to the local Italian restaurant. She is beautiful and interesting and Dean, he just.

“I can't,” he says halfway through their date. “I'm sorry, I just-”

“In love with someone else?” she asks knowingly, a soft smile playing at her lips.

“That obvious?”

“Kind of,” she smiles. “Plus that's been like my last three dates. Guys who died in love with girlfriends who aren't dead yet. Heaven problems.”

Dean smirks at the thought of Sam being called his girlfriend. “Man, that's rough. I'm really sorry. You're great; I'm sure you'll find someone.” She nods and takes a sip of her chardonnay. He gestures toward the door. “I'm sorry, I should-”

“Stay,” Callie says, gesturing at his seat. “Tell me about him.”

“How'd you-”

“I know these things,” she grins. “Also? That big ol' smirk when I called him your girlfriend.”

__________________

Donna dies on a Sunday.

Dean collects her in his arms the second he sees her, listening to her babble on about the damn deer in the road that took her out before she holds him at arm's length and damn near coos.

“Dean! My gosh, it's so good to see you!”

“You too, Donna,” he says before hugging her again.

“Oh, I've missed you something awful,” she murmurs into his chest. “And Sam!”

“What about Sam?” Dean asks, snapping to attention, eyes searching her face.

“Well, that boy just misses you like crazy. Even now, just misses you to death. Even named his boy after you.” Dean feels his eyes flood with tears.

“His son?”

“Yeah, Dean John. Call him DJ. He's a sweetheart, just like his dad. He and Angie raised him right,” Donna continues. “And Angie. Total sweetheart. They've been married going on forty years now, I think.” Dean tries to ignore the way his heart sinks.

“Yeah? What has Sam been up to?”

“You haven't gotten any updates? You poor boy. He mostly retired from hunting. Taught lore at a local college until he retired,” Donna says, eyes fixed on him with a look of pity. “Raised his boy to know enough to keep him safe but not enough to keep him in danger.”

“Good,” Dean nods, eyes slicked with tears. “That's real good.” And it is. It's everything he always wanted for Sam, just without Dean by his side watching it happen.

“It is. I'm sorry what happened to you honey,” she frowns, brushing her hand against her cheek. Dean presses his lips together as hard as he can trying to stop the tears from falling.

“It's alright,” he whispers, glancing away. “It all worked out like it was supposed to.” _It did_ , he tells himself. _I just have to accept it._

__________________

Nestled in lush pockets of tall trees and mountainous peaks is this secluded bridge he likes to drive to when he needs to think. It's out of the way, and he never sees another car when he parks on it. Sometimes he takes Miracle with him and lets him run around, up and down the unpaved roads after birds and rabbits he'll never catch. The dog showed up a few years after Dean got here, brought some sunlight to his life, and helped him feel a little less alone. Dean spends his days sounded by people who love him, but he never shakes that feeling of emptiness, like he left half of himself on Earth. It isn't how he envisioned Heaven, but even so, even in his most apocalyptic dreams of this place, he always knew someday he and Sam would be reunited.

It finally happens on a Thursday on that bridge, while Dean is watching the very beginnings of an early sunset stretch over the body of the water. One second he's watching still water and the next a feeling of peace and completion washes over him that his body instantly recognizes as only one thing. He can't help the smile that forms over his lips.

“Hey Sammy,” he says, turning around to take in the sight of his brother standing there, not a day older than the last time he saw him. Sam's eyes lock to his, his face brimming with emotion, and Dean's body moves by its own accord, drawn like a magnet towards his brother. He stops for a moment inches before him just to take him in, to take in the decades that lay between them. It's like not a year has passed, Sam lain open and bare before him with raw love and emotion that Dean takes in like oxygen, breathes back to him like carbon dioxide. In the moment, nothing is different, everything is the same, everything is _them,_ and Dean just lets himself go and gathers Sam in his arms, feeling the electricity and the calm spreading through his body at the contact and the feeling of _finally, FINALLY._

Sam clings to him, shaking in his grasp. He keeps murmuring, “Dean, Dean,” though Dean is sure he isn't aware of doing it.

“Shhh,” Dean whispers, smoothing his hand over his brother's hair and turning his head into his neck. “I'm here.” He isn't sure if that was the right thing or the wrong thing to say when Sam lets out a sob and folds himself up further into Dean's arms, but Dean takes him nonetheless.

Time passes in waves and it could be seconds or it could be hours, but Dean holds Sam. He just holds him. After years and years, decades and decades, he holds him. And then, slowly letting go, he loosens his grip, though it physically pains to do so. The air finds its way between them again and Dean forces himself to straighten up, forces himself to breathe and remind himself, _he's not mine._ He tells himself even though it kills him inside, _he's not mine anymore._

“Dean,” Sam breathes, fingers swiping at the tears beneath his eyes.

“Sam.” The word comes out free of tears, wiped clean of emotion and foraged from the will of being the strong one in this. Sam doesn't deserve for him to make this difficult. Reuniting was always going to be emotional, Dean reminds himself; they're brothers. Nothing more, not anymore. He let himself fall back into the hope of how things used to be for a moment there, got too caught up in the moment and it stung. It stung to indulge, to let himself have that moment when he knows he can't have it anymore.

“I just. I can't believe I'm finally here.” Sam finally tears his eyes from Dean from a moment, glancing around. “This. It's beautiful here.”

“I like it,” Dean shrugs, at a loss for what else to say. He does like it here. It's his home. It's all he has now. Feeling a bit awkward standing around now, he gestures towards the Impala. Giving him an odd look, Sam hesitates at first, but follows him, watching him closely as Dean pulls off down the road. It is quiet for a moment before Sam speaks again.

“I don't remember it,” Sam furrows his brow, looking around more. “This place. This memory.”

“Oh. It's not- Heaven is different now. Jack made it different.”

“Jack?” Sam brightens up at his name.

“And Cas.”

“Cas? Cas is here?”

“They both are. They redid Heaven. Shared Heavens aren't a thing anymore. It's kind of like Earth now. Everyone is just here. It's not just reliving your greatest hits, it's just living. Or not living. Whatever.”

“So everyone's here? You mean-”

“Mom. Dad. Bobby, Rufus, Donna, Charlie, pretty much anyone you can think of,” Dean smirks. “You're not just stuck with me, don't worry.”

“That's not what I meant,” Sam says, and Dean doesn't even have to look at him to know the look on the face, how he's pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. “That's, you know. That's better. More free.”

“Yep,” Dean smacks his lips, turning up the radio. Another silence ensues and it's not exactly a comfortable one. Things are awkward between them, and Dean knows it's probably from keeping Sam at an arm's length, but part of Dean wanders to thinking if it's from Sam not wanting to tell him about moving on. He wants to tell Sam it's okay, just to tell him, but he doesn't think he's ready for that particular conversation ten minutes into reuniting. Let it simmer, he thinks, put it off until it boils into something even more painful. Hey, Dean never said Heaven made him perfect.

“Where are we going?” Sam asks after a couple more minutes and Dean spares him a glance. Sam is looking at him, brow furrowed like he's trying to figure something out. Dean shrugs.

“Figured we'd go see Mom and Dad.”

Sam looks stricken. “Oh.”

“Is that... okay?” Dean questions slowly, slightly taken aback by the reaction.

“Yeah,” Sam mumbles, seeming like he wants to continue that thought before repeating, “Yeah. That's fine.” Dean gives him a hard look.

“Alright.”

__________________

People are waiting for him once they pull up to Mom and Dad's house.

“Wow,” Sam says, sounding a bit anxious as he looks to Dean, a pleading look on his face like he wants to delay stepping out of the car. Dean laughs, a bit stiff, and steps out, greeted with a chorus of greetings from all their family and friends. When Sam finally steps out of the car, their mother and father swipe him into a joint hug, peppering him with kisses and statements about how much they missed them. Dean leans on the driver's side of the Impala and watches the scene unfold, a smile on his face. When his parents finally let Sam go, he's mobbed with hugs from the whole gang of Charlie, Donna, Jack, Bobby, Cas and Rufus. It's a more concentrated greeting than Dean ever got, his more peppered with one on one encounters which, looking at how overwhelmed Sam is, Dean preferred. At the end of the line is one person Dean probably should have expected to see but didn't: Jess.

Dean's heart stops when he sees her, looking as beautiful as the night he met her in long blonde locks and a pink dress. He can tell Sam is shocked as well, by the way he stockily gathers her in a hug as she approaches. Dean tunes out their conversation as he turns away, another wave of devastation crashing over him. If by some miracle he hasn't already lost Sam to Angie, he is definitely going to lose him to Jess.

“Dean,” he hears Cas' voice as he steps into the adjoining yard of his parents' home, slowly pacing out the steps away from the scene behind him. “Dean.” Inhaling deeply, Dean stops.

“What?” he whispers, not having the energy left in him to muster anything else.

“Where are you going?”

“I can't. I can't do this Cas. I can't pretend like I can do this,” Dean spits, voice low. The panic is rising in his chest and it feels like there's no cap anymore; there's no limit to the devastation. With Sam away, he was able to convince himself he's okay with just being brothers, but having him here, close enough to touch, and seeing him with someone else who loves him, who can have him... it's too hard. It's too hard and Dean can't do this. He can't watch this and he can't not watch this; he can't just let Sam walk away from his life completely. He loves him too much.

“Do what? We're just talking.”

“Sam's back and I can't. I can't just act like I'm okay,” Dean repeats, feeling crazy. He knows he's crazy, knows he is. Sam is happy and Dean can't let go. All he ever wanted was for Sam to be happy.

“Is this about thinking Sam doesn't want to be with you again?”

“He doesn't.”

“You need to let him decide that,” Cas snaps, exasperation showing through his normally calm exterior.

“I can't put that on him. I can't ask him to decide. What kind of person asks someone to decide?” Dean asks, glancing back to the gathering. Everyone is still talking, seemingly unaware he has stepped away. That's the plan, Dean thinks. He will just step away, back into the brother role, and Sam won't even notice. Sam will be happy with his new family and Dean will just let him be. Dean glances at his friend, at the angel before him who proclaimed his love for him all those years ago. Dean has never returned the feelings for Cas, never has even entertained the thought. But maybe... maybe. Cas is a good man. One of the best. Maybe if he can move on from Sam someday, maybe he can find it in him to love Cas back. To find two people love him, it isn't like he's going to strike gold a third time.

Or maybe he will. Maybe someone will find it in him again. He has the rest of eternity. He has the rest of eternity to try to move on from Sam and even though it feels right now like he never will... maybe. Maybe he can at least find someone else to make it tolerable.

“You owe it to him to let him decide,” Cas insists, staring at him so intensely, Dean has to looks away. He feels like a child being reprimanded, but nothing is changing his mind.

__________________

After the crowds of people part and disperse back to their homes with promises of soon-scheduled celebrations, it's just Mom, Dad, Sam, and Dean in the living room sipping beers.

“I hear you're a dad now, Sam,” Dad beams, smiling at his youngest with pride. Sam returns the look to him, tearing up.

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Sam nods. “DJ. I named him after you,” he glances at Dean with tear-slicked eyes. “And you,” he adds, nodding towards Dad before returning his gaze to Dean. “Dean John Winchester.”

“I heard,” Dean smiles, taking a sip from his bear. “Sounds like a good kid.”

“He is,” Sam says wistfully. “The best. He's just like you, Dean. A stubborn shit. You two will get along great.” Dean quirks his lip up at that, raising his beer bottle slightly.

“And your wife?” Mom inquires eagerly. Dean shifts uncomfortably, getting to his feet.

“Another beer?” he asks, glancing around the room, while carefully avoiding eye contact with Sam. Everyone shakes their heads and Dean heads to the kitchen. His beer is still half empty, but he downs it on the way.

__________________

They talk for hours, Dean staying mostly quiet for his part and observing. He catches Sam's eyes on him several times but manages to avoid to making contact.

Eventually he stands. “I think I'm going to head out,” he says, stretching for effect.

“Are you sure?” his mother asks, sounding put out. “You boys could stay the night. We have the room.”

“Nah, Miracle is waiting for me at home. Sam can stay, though.” Sam's eyes snap up to him as soon as the words leave his mouth and suddenly Sam is on his feet as well.

“I'd like to come too, Dean,” he states firmly, eyes set on his brother. “If that's okay.”

Dean shrugs, trying for nonchalant. “Yeah, sure.”

They both hug their parents long goodbyes before stepping out in the cool night. Sam trails behind, steps crunching slowly on the gravel behind him. The Impala doors squeak slowly as they climb in and the engine roars to life loudly against the quiet night as Dean pulls away.

There's a long silence before Sam breaks it. “You have a house?”

“A cabin.”

“Do you just... buy a place?”

“It's more like wanting a place. It just kind of exists,” Dean says, shrugging. “You can do it with your own place, too. Should be ready soon.”

Sam stares at him. “Are you... do you not want me to stay with you?”

Sensing they're at the precipice of the conversation he has been avoiding, Dean licks his lips, shifting uncomfortably. “I just, you know. Figured you'd want your own place. For your family. Or Jess.”

“Jess?”

“Yeah, you know. I saw you talking. You loved her. Now you two can be together again.”

For several long moments, Dean feels Sam's eyes digging into him. “Dean.” When Dean glances over, Sam's mouth is agape, eyes wide.

“It's okay, Sam. It is.”

“ _What_ is okay?” Sam questions, a slightly hysterical edge to his voice. “You think... Jess? Dean. Jess and I were just talking. She wanted to say hi. I loved Jess, but that was lifetimes ago. She has moved on.”

“And so have you,” Dean murmurs. The silence that follows is deafening.

“... Is this. Is this about Angie?” Sam asks eventually, voice incredibly small.

“It's okay, Sam. I get it. I'm not asking you to choose,” Dean says, hoping his voice sounds smooth. Hoping it sounds convincing. “You've moved on. It's alright. I wanted you to. You have a family now and that's all I ever wanted for you. It's okay. It is.” The moments that follow could be seconds or lifetimes, years or seconds, it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that they are excruciating. Dean forces himself to keep his eyes on the road, but he can feel Sam's eyes on him, can feel his brother falling apart beside him and can feel himself crumbling inside as well. _This was never going to be easy,_ Dean tells himself. _Nothing about this was going to be easy_.

“Have you?” Sam finally asks, voice shaking like he's terrified of the answer. The question catches Dean off guard.

“What?”

“Have you?” Sam repeats. “Have. You. Moved. On?”

“No,” Dean answers automatically, never able to deny Sam. “No, but that doesn't matter, Sam. It's okay, I-”

“I didn't, Dean,” Sam says, voice thick with tears. “I didn't move on. I tried to keep moving. I met Angie and I tried. She got pregnant and I tried to have a family but it wasn't. It wasn't, Dean. She wasn't you. No one was ever you. It was like I was dead inside, like I wasn't even alive.”

“Sammy, you-”

“She and I were partners. Friends. We stayed together for DJ and then as friends after that because we had no one else and then she met someone but he had no interest in getting married, so there was no sense in telling anyone besides close friends. I couldn't even look at anyone else, Dean, it all felt like a lie. And I know people move on, I know people love again, hell, I did after Jess, but you. You and me, Dean. There's nothing after you and me.” Dean's crying now, right in earnest with Sam, pulled in the driveway of his cabin in the woods.

“And DJ. He worships you, Dean. Just like I did. Do. I can't wait for you to meet him, you'll love him. And he. I never told him, but he figured it out. About us. I thought he'd hate me for it, but he understood. He said he still loved me and he just. He can't wait to meet you someday and that's all I want. For us to be a family. Will you. Is that-”

“Of course, Sam. I'll love him like my own, you know I will,” Dean forces through tears, laughing when a grin splits across his brother's face.

“God, Dean, I was so scared. When I got here and you were pushing me away, I-”

“I know, Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to feel like you had to choose, I just,” Dean sniffles, trying to find the right words.

“Same old shit, Dean, never thinking you're good enough,” Sam hisses, hand cupping the side of his brother's face. “You are. You are and you're everything, okay. I waited for you for forty-five damn years and I won't wait any longer, okay?”

Dean laughs, the sound thick with tears. “Okay.”

“I love you,” Sam says, crashing their lips together. Dean melts into the kiss, burying his hands in his brother's hair. For years, he has been waiting for Heaven to feel like home, but home was always Sam, always was being in his brother's arms.

“Love you too,” Dean breathes. Sam grins at him, interlacing their hands together.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?” Sam asks, head settling on Dean's shoulder.

“I'm sorry I died a week after killing Chuck.”

Sam barks out a laugh, pushing at Dean's chest. “God, shut up. You asshole.”

Dean grins and Sam grins right back at him.

This is it. This is Heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in six years- this is totally self-indulgent.


End file.
